


you're screaming medic

by BELDR0P



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, POV Second Person, Prompt Fic, im terrible this is terrible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2012-11-29
Packaged: 2017-11-19 19:39:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BELDR0P/pseuds/BELDR0P
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He looks a little thrown and you're tempted to laugh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're screaming medic

**Author's Note:**

> There was a prompt that started all this. If you really want to know, it's in the end notes along with warnings.

It hurts to think about and it's like watching your mother wither away all over again only faster. You always thought you would lose him to something creature-of-the-night related, like werewolves or kanima or maybe hunters. Instead there's a car accident, hit-and-run, and suddenly you're the only Stilinski still kicking.

It hurts and you tried for Scott but he has Allison and hunters and he never wanted to be a werewolf and his life is _so hard_.

It hurts but there's nothing for you here because what do you do? You research through sleepness nights and say things that no one hears and all you really had at the end of the day was your dad. But he didn't trust you and you lost him his job and it barely matters that he was reinstated because you're a terrible son and maybe you did kill him. Maybe that hallucination was right, maybe you had been killing him, maybe you killed him.

But now there's no space in the house and you choke on the pressure.

It hurts and you wish you could be pack, wish you could have that at least but you can't because you're fleshy and breakable and human. You can't ever be a wolf, you feel it deep in your bones, stamped into the marrow like a disease.

So you sit in Scott's house, empty and quiet and press your fingers into your eyes. You don't know where the time has gone but it's dark when you drag yourself from the floor. There's a decision in your crowded thoughts and you wonder if you're making the right decision, if this is okay.

You know it isn't.

It hurts to climb into your jeep but you do. It hurts to start it up and pull away but you do. Your destination is too close and you try not to think but your head and your heart feel too crowded, seconds or minutes or hours away from bursting out and you can't tell.

Derek sees you before you see him and you shouldn't be surprised but you are. His brows are furrowed and he could create whole stories with those things—stories full up of anger and disappointment and stalking and self-loathing.

You know your smile is a little lacking today but you figure he won't think anything of it, won't ask. He doesn't. He frowns and asks you why you're there, harsh and accusitory. It's just another name on your list. You shrug, ask him if he's busy, if he has some time. He looks a little thrown and you're tempted to laugh.

"I've been thinking—," Derek snorts and you huff. "I've been _thinking_ maybe I want the bite after all, y'know?" Your lips curl and you bare your teeth, mimicking a snarl. Derek's eyebrows remind you of fuzzy caterpillars but his eyes are intense. You shrug again, waiting.

"You don't want it."

"Hey _hey_. I never said that. Even your creepy uncle knew."

It was kind of funny, the confusion twisting his face.

"He offered you the bite?"

"Yeah. I was going to be Super Stiles."

He's still frowning but you think maybe you see a hint of something a little less annoyed. That hurts a little too.

"You can't take this back."

"I know."

And you do know. You know in ways he doesn't.

He doesn't say anything after that, just approaches you, watching. You feel a little bit like prey, all fight-or-flight instincts. You just pull your shirt out of the way.

It hurts, an honest-to-God physical pain, but you just grin a little and walk away. Derek doesn't stop you and you don't expect him to. Instead you sit in your idling jeep until you can't stand it anymore and drive home.

You still choke a little when you walk through the door but you trudge to the bathroom regardless because this is bound to get a little messy and there's no reason to make clean-up harder than it has to be.

Climbing into the bathub feels like a death sentence but you figure it might as well be.

It’s the waiting that bothers you. You don’t eat or sleep. You lay there and stare at the dark ceiling and wonder if it would be better if there were glow-in-the-dark stars shining down on you. Maybe they would save you a little but that’s probably just wishful thinking.

It hurts when it starts and there’s black and red smeared across your hands and mouth.

You were never meant to be Batman.

**Author's Note:**

> Uh. Just warning for major character death and unknowingly assisted suicide down here because I didn't want to give it away in the tags. ♥  
> ( psst. hopefully i get better at this fandom maybe. )  
>    
> Also, the tumblr prompt:
> 
> **[ninakask](http://ninakask.tumblr.com/)**
> 
> teen wolf prompt:
> 
> Sheriff Stilinski dies and Stiles comes to a conclusion, that no one needs him in Bacon Hills, actually no one needs him anywhere, he has no one. Scott is with hunters now and he never was or could be in Derek’s pack, since he is human. So he convinces Derek to give him the bite, and he know that it will kill him, but Derek doesn't.  
> 


End file.
